Such a morning it is when love <br />leans through geranium windows <br />and calls with a cockerel's tongue. <br /> <br />When red-haired girls scamper like roses <br />over the rain-green grass; <br />and the sun drips honey. <br /> <br />When hedgerows grow venerable, <br />berries dry black as blood, <br />and holes suck in their bees. <br /> <br />Such a morning it is when mice <br />run whispering from the church, <br />dragging dropped ears of harvest. <br /> <br />When the partridge draws back his spring <br />and shoots like a buzzing arrow <br />over grained and mahogany fields. <br /> <br />When no table is bare, <br />and no beast dry, <br />and the tramp feeds on ribs of rabbit.<br /><br />Laurie Lee<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/day-of-these-days/
